I'm Right Here
by SineadM
Summary: One shot Aarson story approx. 1 1/2 years after the accident. No real plot, bit of schmoop! From Jackson's POV.  Reviews welcomed :-  Updated for a part 2 which is basically part 1 from Aaron's POV
1. Chapter 1

I'm dozing on the couch by the time Aaron gets home from work. The click of the door behind him rouses me slightly but I stay snuggled against the arm of the couch, loath to open my eyes and disturb the warm sleepiness that surrounds me. The smell of motor oil and grease that fills the room when he opens the hall door just increases my fuzzy contentment. It's Aaron's smell, the one that will never not make me smile; not make me feel like I'm home.

I must fall back asleep for a minute because the next thing I know Aaron's leaning over the back of the couch. He runs a hand through my hair, tugging slightly on the curls at the top. I open my eyes and he's there looking down at me, with a look on his face that I can't read. He smiles slightly though as I yawn and bends down, brushing a kiss to my forehead. "Hey," he says and there's a softness in his voice that he doesn't even try to hide. It's a softness that I only usually hear late at night when we've just made love and it's just the two of us together in the darkness. He talks to me then sometimes, open and honest and all mine. We've been together for over two years now and Aaron is no longer the angry, young man he was when we first met. We've been through too much since then for us to be the same people we started out as but that doesn't mean that every one of his walls has been broken down.

I know he loves me; he shows it in a hundred different ways. But I know better than to point those ways out to him because he'd just roll his eyes and scowl and tell me I was going soft. Even after all this time it's still important to him not to seem anything less than a man's man and for the most part that's the face he presents to the world. But I don't mind because I get to see the real him. The real him who holds me at night when nightmares about trains and head braces and wheelchairs threaten to overwhelm me; the real him who makes me run with him every Saturday morning on the pretence of him training for football but really because the doctor told him staying fit was the best way to help my back and neck strengthen again; the real him who insists on getting up every Tuesday and Thursday morning at 5.30am so he can drive me to physio before work just so I won't have to get the bus.

I could tease him; joke about how much he must love me or he'd never do these things but if I did there's a good chance that he'd get that look on his face. That Aaron look; embarrassment and defiance and vulnerability all fighting with each other. So I don't. I just smile and kiss him and say thanks and he gets it and it works.

And so now I don't call him on it; I don't ask him what's wrong. I know he'll tell me when he's ready; no sooner and no later. So I stretch and reach up my arms to tug him over the back of the couch and on top of me.

"Jackson," he yelps as he half falls on me; immediately lifting himself and bracing his arms either side of my head to take his weight off me. He looks at me for a long moment with a small smile on his face. But there's something sad in his eyes and I'm starting to get a little bit scared. But then he kisses me and he's fierce and demanding; totally at odds with the way he's just looked at me. I don't question it; I just pull him towards me, reaching up to meet him; to give him whatever it is he's looking for.

He pulls away after a few minutes, breathing heavily and leaning his forehead against mine. Closing my eyes, I lazily rub circles on his back, keeping him close.

"I'm gonna put the tea on," he says after another minute.

"Thought we were going to Paddy and Rhona's?" I ask, opening my eyes.

"I put him off." Aaron shrugs without meeting my eyes, "just don't feel like it tonight".

"Okay," I say easily and he glances at me before pushing himself up.

"Come on you lazy lump," he holds out his hand to help me up from the couch, "you can do the spuds."

I grin at him as I stand. "Aw baby, here I thought you were going to make me dinner."

"Don't call me that," he scowls but there's no real heat in his voice so I just plant a loud smacker on his cheek as I pass by him. He shoves at me and tries to hide the smile on his face. But I can see it in his eyes and just like that he's my Aaron again.

Dinner is quiet and comfortable and if I didn't know him like my second skin I wouldn't know that there was something up with him. But I do and reading him is second nature to me at this stage. We sit at the table and we talk about everyday stuff; he tells me about Adam's new girlfriend, I tell him about the new assignment I have for college. It's like it always is. Except that he keeps his leg against mine under the table. When he gets up to get more beer he brushes his hand against the back of my neck.

And as I stand at the sink washing the dishes I feel him stand behind me. He wraps his hands around my waist and fits himself along the length of my back. Resting his head against my shoulder I feel him let out a long breath. His hand moves along my chest, coming to rest over my heart. The whole time he doesn't say a word; he just breathes in and out like he's trying to calm himself.

"You know you're scaring me a little," I say softly turning my head slightly.

There's a long moment of silence and just when I think he's not going to answer his voice comes, muffled by my shoulder.

"I just...I just need to know you're here," he speaks in a rush and I don't have to be able to see him to know that he's blushing.

"Okay," I say slowly still not getting it but not questioning him. He tilts his head, kissing my cheek briefly; a silent acknowledgement of my not pushing him.

"Come on," he says after a minute, "I got a film".

"Dinner and a movie, I am a lucky boy," I joke, drying my hands on the towel. He rolls his eyes at me, grabbing more beer from the fridge and settling in the corner of the sofa. He pulls me to him as he presses play on the remote, fitting his arms around my waist and resting his hand over my heart again. I lean my head back against his chest and it's safe and warm and whatever's going on with him I relax because I know it's not something he's freaking out about, it's something he's dealing with. And he's not shutting me out; he's not running from me pretending that everything's okay.

I fall asleep at some point during the film and wake to him whispering in my ear.

"Jay, come on time for bed."

I shake my head sleepily, snuggling back against him. "Comfortable here," I mutter and he laughs gently.

"I'll make it worth your while."

He pushes at me until I make it up the stairs and once we're in our room he pushes me against the wall and kisses me. It's the same kiss as earlier, urgent and insistent and it's not long before we're moving against each other, needy and sweaty. I let him set the pace and it's fast and furious. His hands and mouth are everywhere at once, claiming every part of me, marking me. He stills just before he comes and there's a second where we just look at each other and the vulnerability I see in his eyes floors me. It's enough to send me over the edge and we come together, stars dancing in front of my eyes.

He falls bonelessly on top of me; remembering even in his haze to keep his full weight off me. It's one of those hundred things he does without saying. It's been over a year since I started walking again and the doctor says my back is strong but Aaron is still careful with me like that.

He rolls over on to his back trying to catch his breath and I move to rest my head on his chest, draping my arm across his stomach. He curls his arm around my back pulling me closer and I drop a soft kiss to his chest. There's silence for a few minutes as we catch our breath and I can feel myself about to doze off when his hand moves along my back. It takes a minute for me to realise that he's stroking along the scar on my back, running his fingers along the small bumps that dot along it. My breath catches for a minute and I feel him tense slightly underneath me.

"Someone brought a car into the garage this afternoon," Aaron's voice is low and soft in the darkness. "It had been in an accident a couple of weeks ago." He's silent for a minute and I move my fingers against his stomach, waiting. He clears his throat and taking a deep breath, he speaks again.

"It was a woman that brought it in. She was his mother...the guy...the guy in the car." His voice falters but his hand keeps stroking, anchoring him to me. "He was driving home from a late shift at work. They're not really sure what happened but he went off the road, over a wall...They got him to hospital but it was too late..."

He moves his other hand to link with mine on his stomach, holding it tight. "He died...the guy...I don't even know why she told us what happened. It's not like we needed to know. And why would she even want the car fixed. I'd never want to see it again."

I can hear the tears in his voice and I squeeze his hand. He takes a deep breath and I can feel it shuddering through his body. "The whole time she was there, the whole time I was working on the car...all I could think of was...was you and what happened...you lying there in the van...and in the hospital...and..." the tears win out and his voice chokes as he tries to swallow them down.

"Hey, hey," I move up along the bed, lifting myself on my elbow and cupping his cheek in my hand. "I'm right here, I'm right here."

He wipes at his face with his hand. "I know, I'm just being stupid but if I lost you...if..."

He can't finish the sentence but he doesn't need to. Sometimes I forget that the accident didn't just change my life; it changed everyone's around me. I try to imagine sometimes what it would be like to have to sit beside a hospital bed and watch Aaron breathe through a tube, to not know if he was ever going to wake up again. To have to watch him struggle and fight and hurt. And I can't, the mere thought of it makes my chest constrict, makes my head hurt. But he lived it; he stood beside me for every second of it. He loved me and pushed me and looked after me. He's still doing it even now.

He closes his eyes for a minute and takes a deep breath. I press my lips to his forehead and when I pull back he's looking up at me again. My heart swells at the love I see in his face; at the knowledge of how far we've come.

I don't say anything; there is nothing to say. I just roll onto my back and pull him with me so that he's lying in my arms, head resting on my chest. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him to me; holding him. He doesn't resist, he just presses a kiss to my chest. He rests his hand over my heart and I know it's so he can feel it beating. He used to do it a lot in the first few months after the accident. I swallow against the lump in my throat and pull him closer, trying to protect him from anything that might ever hurt him; even knowing as I do it that I never can. All I can do is what he does for me every day; be here, let him know in whatever way I can that I love him; hold him.

After a while his breathing evens out and I know he's asleep. It's only then that I let myself drop off to sleep; surrounded by my whole world.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N : So this was supposed to be a one-shot but I decided to do it from Aaron's POV. It's probably a bit repetitive (sorry!) but I needed to write something after last night's episode (). Hope it's okay _

**AARON**

We've fallen into a routine in those mornings I leave for work before him. I don't really remember when it started but like most things with Jackson it becomes a part of my day long before it occurs to me to wonder when or who started it. My alarm goes off at 7am and Jackson muffles something sleepily against his pillow. After a minute he shuffles slightly towards me and drops a kiss on my shoulder, draping his arm across my stomach as he yawns widely. The room is silent for a minute as we adjust to the morning. A lone bird chirps outside the window and I can hear a dog barking in the distance.

He starts this morning, his voice low and rumbling against my skin. He's talking about the meeting with his project supervisor he's got later this afternoon; what he thinks the objections to his chosen topic are gonna be; the arguments he's preparing just in case. I know enough about his topic to be able to add my tuppence here and there and he nods slightly, his stubble catching on my shoulder. I tell him about the dream I had last night; Paddy and Edna had bought the Woolpack and turned it into a roller disco. My alarm clock had gone off just as Edna had emerged on opening night in a sequin number, complete with sparkly skates.

He laughs at that, looking up at me as I turn my head towards him. "Your head is a scary, scary place," he grins and I just grin back at him; the morning already brighter with the knowledge that there are no nightmares to share this morning; no bad dreams. We'll both take Edna in sequins over that any day.

I lied before when I said I don't remember how this bit of our morning routine started. I do remember how; why it started. In the months after Jackson's accident he and Hazel were living in Declan's cottage. I'd pretty much moved in there with them after Jackson and I had gotten back together. Hazel had been wary at first; worried that Jackson would start to rely on me too much; still not convinced that I wasn't going to walk away when it got too hard. She'd come round though and we'd set up a camp bed beside Jackson's bed so I could sleep near him.

Jackson was still on some pretty strong meds; he took them every night to help him sleep. They seemed to wear off at the same time every morning; just before the sun started to rise and long before it was time to get up. I'm still not sure what would wake me; he never called out to me or made any noise. But inevitably I'd wake up not long after him to find him lying beside me looking at the ceiling. He'd turn his head and smile at me and I'd move up onto his bed beside him. I couldn't hold him but I'd rest my chin on his shoulder and keep my hand above his heart so I could feel it beating and we'd talk until it was time to start the day. It was there every morning, in his bed; our bed; that everything got stripped away. There was no putting a brave face on it; no pretending between us. He'd tell me about the nightmares he had during the night; the nightmares he had about the future. I'd talk about how scared I was that I wouldn't be able to cope; that I didn't want to make promises to him that I couldn't keep but at the same time I couldn't stay away. I think it was those morning talks that got us both through those months. It wasn't something I was used to; putting myself and my feelings out there. It wasn't something I'd done even with him before the accident. But life had changed and all my worries from before seemed insignificant in the face of what we were dealing with. It sounds funny but he was my lifeline through it. Being able to talk to him like that; knowing that he wasn't holding anything back from me; it was what kept us going.

And so even after he'd gotten better, when he'd started to walk again; we'd still do that. Early in the morning when the light was still dim and the air cold; we'd lie in our bed and talk before we had to start the day. Jackson's therapist said that it was healthy for our relationship whatever that meant. All I knew was that it was part of who we were now; part of what made us work. Sometimes we just talked about nothing; about whatever we had on that day; about something in the news; about something completely random. Like this morning. But I wouldn't change it for the world.

"You better go have a shower or you'll be late for work," he says after a bit. I groan and he grins at me; shoving at my shoulder as he buries himself back under the duvet. "Don't let the cold air in when you get out," he teases and just for that I lift the duvet off him as I get out.

"Dick," he yelps as he grabs at it and I smile my way into the bathroom.

He's asleep when I get out of the shower, head smushed against the pillow. The duvet has slipped a bit down his shoulder and I pull it up, tucking it in around him. He rubs his nose against the pillow and for a brief moment my heart clenches in my chest at just the sight of him lying here, so peaceful in our bed. I have a fleeting urge to jump back into bed beside him but I shake my head at my softness, rolling my eyes at myself. I'm still smiling as I go to work though.

I should have known that the day could only go downhill from there. Cain's in a ratty mood when I get in, going on about Ryan being late and then having a go at me for humming. As if.

He sends me over to deal with her when she comes in with the tow truck. The car doesn't look too damaged – the driver's side is crushed in, windscreen smashed but nothing we couldn't fix. She's probably the same age as Hazel but has a shadow about her face that makes the wisecrack about to come out of my mouth die on my lips. I notice she doesn't look at the car as it's being unloaded, turns her back to it forcing me to move around her.

"What can we do for you?" I ask after a minute of silence. She's silent and I'm starting to get impatient when she takes a deep breath and starts to talk. The car's her sons; was her sons because – she takes a shuddering breath as she says it – he's dead. And I don't know what to say; I just stand there dumbfaced but she doesn't even notice. She just keeps talking in a low, controlled voice; telling me what happened; seeming to need to say it out loud even though I'm a complete stranger. And as she talks; as she tells me about her son; about the night time single car crash that took him away from her; all I can see is him. Jackson. And it hits me all over again like some sort of a punch to my gut; taking my breath away; leaving me speechless in front of her. She's talking about her son but all I can see is Jackson. Jackson lying in the car; Jackson covered in blood; Jackson trapped in a hospital bed.

And then Cain's standing beside me and I don't know what's showing on my face but his face creases into what I just about recognise as his worried look. He shoves me in the direction of the garage; turning to the woman and guiding her gently towards the side; talking to her in a low, muffled voice.

I lean against the garage wall, trying to catch my breath and shake myself out of whatever that was. We've been to countless films with car crashes in them; the paper every second week has some car crash story in it and I can read all them without ever breaking a sweat. So why has this hit me like it's happening all over again right now. Why has it hit me like I'm losing him all over again?

Cain looks at me strangely when he's finished dealing with her but he doesn't ask and I don't know if I'm grateful or annoyed. Annoyance wins out. "What you staring at?" I glare at him for a minute before stalking over to the car I was working on.

The day crawls by and the need to get home to see him is like an itch under my skin. I'm almost annoyed by the time I get there; confused about what the hell is going on with me. And then I see him and the annoyance melts away and there's just this thump that I get when I'm with him sometimes. This thump that leaves me a little breathless and a little shaky. This thump that makes me want to burrow myself into him and never let him go.

He's asleep on the couch; curled up against the arm. I look down on him for a second; and I recognise that rush through my chest as relief. I reach out my hand, running it through his hair; gently tugging on the curls. I want to see his eyes; I need to. He opens them sleepily and yawns, stretching his arms above him. I bend down, brushing a kiss to his forehead; holding it for a moment. "Hey," I say as I pull back and I hear the undertone of the shake in my voice. I know he hears it; I can see his eyes soften but he doesn't say anything. He just reaches up to put his arms around my neck and tugs me over the back of the couch on top of him.

"Jackson," I can't help yelping as I fall, trying to keep my weight off him as I land. He just smiles and we look at each other for a long moment. I can see the questions in his eyes but again he doesn't say anything; he just keeps smiling, rubbing his hand along my back. Being close to him; feeling his body against mine sends inexplicable sadness and relief rushing through me. I need to be closer to him so I kiss him and I'm trying to take in as much as possible; the need to claim him overwhelming me. I pull away after a minute and rest my forehead against his as I catch my breath. He still doesn't speak; he just continues to rub lazy circles on my back.

After a minute I get up to put on the tea and put out my hand to help him up. "Come on you lazy lump, you can do the spuds."

"Aw baby, here I thought you were going to make me dinner," he grins at me.

"Don't call me that" the response is automatic but there's no heat behind it and he plants a loud kiss on my cheek as he passes by. I push at his shoulder but I can't hide the smile on my face. I've lost the habit of hiding from him but the thought doesn't scare me anymore. It's Jackson after all.

He's washing up after dinner; leaning against the sink and it hits me as I watch him; that this is where I feel safe. This is my whole world; here with him, eating dinner, talking about our day, being together. And the thought scares me; the woman's face from today flashes into my mind; the loss in her eyes. And that need to touch him hits me again; to know he's there even though I'm looking right at him.

I'm moving before I realise it; coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist as I fit myself along his back. It's only when I rest my head on his shoulder and feel myself let out a breath that I realise how hard my heart had been pounding. My hand moves along his chest, needing to feel the beat and I breathe in and out in time with it, trying to settle the pounding in my heart.

I can feel him tense underneath me and he covers my hands with his. A trickle of water runs down our joined hands.

"You know you're scaring me a little," he says quietly.

I don't know how to explain it to him; don't even know how to explain it to myself. He waits for me to find the words and I say what's on the tip of my tongue even though I know it doesn't make any sense.

"I just...I just need to know you're here," it comes out in a rush and I feel my face heat up at my words.

"Okay," he says slowly. I can hear the unasked questions in his voice but he doesn't push. My heart swells with the feel of him; the knowledge of how well he knows me; how he trusts me and is there quietly; but strong. I kiss him gently on the cheek in silent thanks and I feel a little of the tenseness leave his body.

He falls asleep watching the film and I have to practically push him up the stairs. It only takes him a second to wake up though when I push him up against the wall, pressing my body against him. That need to claim him consumes me once more and I'm trying to reach every part of him at once. It's fast and hard and he moves with me; matching me pace for pace. Our eyes meet just before I come and it's all there written on his face; how much he loves me; and it floors me. We come together and I fall on him; automatically lifting my weight off him although my arms feel like jelly.

He rests his head on my chest and I pull him to me as I try to catch my breath. His breath starts to steady and I run my hand along his back; unconsciously finding the bumps that mark the scar on his back. My hand falters for a second as I take a sharp breath; the physical reminder of that whole year finally giving me the courage to tell him.

I tell him about the woman; about her son and how he died. I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I put into words what I've been feeling all day.

"The whole time she was there, the whole time I was working on the car...all I could think of was...was you and what happened...you lying there in the van...and in the hospital...and..." the tears choke in my throat as the memories overwhelm me; the alternative future without him takes over.

And then he's there beside me; his fingers brushing the tears away from my cheek. "Hey, hey," he says gently "I'm right here, I'm right here." As ever it's just what I need to hear from him and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I brush at the tears on my face and open my eyes to see him looking at me; no judgement on his face.

"I know, I'm just being stupid but if I lost you...if..." I can't finish it but I don't need to. I see the understanding in his eyes and I close mine; trying to fight the pictures that are fighting to break through. I feel his lips on my forehead and it chases them away; the thoughts; the memories. When I open my eyes he's looking at me and I don't try to hide; showing everything I feel for him on my face.

He doesn't say anything; he just rolls onto his back; pulling me with so he's holding me; my head resting on his chest. He pulls me tighter to him and I smile a little, pressing a kiss to his chest. It's only when I feel the beat of his heart underneath my hand that I let myself relax. He notices, tightening his arms around me; surrounding me. I'm not even surprised any more at how he knows what I need; knows even before I even do.

And after a while I feel myself starting to drift into sleep. I'm not afraid of any nightmares tonight and I let myself fall; surrounded by my whole world.


End file.
